


Agoraphobia

by Ashkenna



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), All Time Low
Genre: Agoraphobia, Artist Alex, M/M, Mysophobia, OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Thanatophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:53:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkenna/pseuds/Ashkenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agoraphobia (ag·o·ra·pho·bi·a)<br/>The extreme or irrational fear of crowded or enclosed public spaces.</p>
<p>Otherwise known as Alex Gaskarth's greatest problem, and the one thing that Michael Clifford isn't afraid of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agoraphobia

Alex is an introvert, to say the very least, ever since he's came to his apartment, he hasn't left. The world, he decided, was a dangerous, dangerous place. How he paid for his apartment? He sold paintings through his best friends. He had three different names; Chandler Z. who was played out by Zack, Owen J. who was played by Jack and Herrick R. played by Rian. They all got half of each payment that Alex made, least to say; Alex was a very wealthy man, his works in the arts were very popular.

Alex could remember several times when the three aliases were all nominated for the same award at shows. Another thing about Alex was, he was used to being alone, with no one to pester or bother him, other than the close to constant phone calls from supervisors and his aliases. Today, though, something was different, something had actually happened to the vaccent apartment next to him.

A boy was moving in, Alex could only see the sliver of outside that he allowed himself, but from that, he saw the boy. A candy red haired boy carrying in a box. Alex was so, so indecisive. On one hand, he wanted to go out, be a good neighbor and help the slightly cute boy move into his apartment, then on the other hand, his phobias stopped him. He could be a murderer, or, one of the boxes could be way too heavy for me, I could fall down the stairs and die, I could catch something. Maybe he has something. What if it isn't just him, though-

"You havin' fun starin', sir?" The boy had stopped Alex's thoughts leaving one with him how do talk? He was much prettier when he was looking you up and down like a creep. "Sir?" He asked again and Alex, before he could have any type of attack, closed the door, locking and chaining it down, falling down to his knees, then sliding away from the green door frantically. He didn't want to hear the insult that the boy was muttering under his breath. Alex didn't know how to talk face to face with someone, other than his three best friends, even then, he wasn't so good at it. He couldn't take a step outside without giving himself a panic attack.  
Stay away, his paranoid conscious took over again, he can't do you any good. No one ever has. Alex silently agreed with the voice, crawling away from the door, his eyes unlocking from it.

\---

Alex knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but the noise of skin hitting skin was far too aggressive to be sex and his room could hear pretty much everything in the other boys house. He heard a cry of pain, and he couldn't be sure if it was his neighbor or the friend that he noted had came in a few minutes prior. Alex had rushed to his room, sitting up on his bed and listening in. Yelling, muffled yelling. "You're worthless!" yelled one, it was slurred and Alex could it was a drunken haze of anger. "You're a cheap slut! I know you did it, you sold your body out to buy this apartment, didn't you?!"

"N-no, I didn't, I swear I didn't! Connor, please!" Another aggressive slap that rang through the apartment, then a crash. "N-no! No! Connor! Stop, please!"

"Stop what? Stop this?" Yet another crash, loud bangs and cries of pain. "You're an oddball, a psycho, you know that, Michael? Stop being so damn OCD about everything! You damn germaphobe." Slaps, loud, harsh slaps, and cries of pain. Alex ran from his bed, a whimpering sound erupting from his throat. One of the two were getting hurt, and if there was one thing that Alex couldn't stand it was the cry of pain one made when getting hurt.

Alex dialed 911, though he wasn't sure what he should file under. Domestic abuse, or a domestic dispute, though, if he filed it under a dispute, it's one hell of a one-sided dispute. So, he said abuse, and waited. Though the yelling and cries had long since subsided, Alex didn't see anyone walk out the doors. The police came a few minutes after, lights flashing and Alex watched to see who they took out.

They talked. They talked for thee longest time in Alex's mind, and what Alex considers the worst part, was the fact that they didn't drag anyone out.

\---

It started to trigger Alex, the fights, the abuse, the crying. He would be curled up in his room, crying. He wanted so badly to kick the mans ass, to hit him, to kill him, even, but he knew the consequences for each of those. He knew what would happen if he took the step. He'd get his ass handed to him.  
One day, though, the fighting stopped and the other boy never came back. Alex was sort off glad for that, both for himself and his neighbor.

\---

The knock on the door scared Alex half to death, with paint all over himself and a look at the clock, if it was Jack, he was about thirty minutes early. Alex sighed and walked to the door, opening it up, thinking it was going to be Jack. It wasn't, it was the red haired boy. He looked about as jittery as Alex felt, his tounge was sitting, useless in his mouth and his brain was in such a scramble, it couldn't make any words out to be said. The boy though, could. "Hi." He muttered. "So, uhm," he coughed, "I'm Michael."

Alex swallowed down the lump in his throat. "A-Alex." Michael's head snapped up in a 'holy shit, you actually talk.' kind of way.

"What?" He'd asked. Alex was about to go through the process again, before Michael stopped him. "No- not, like- you don't have to repeat it. I just- I thought I was being an insensitive bastard. I just thought- I guessed you were like, mute or something."

"Oh." Alex breathed out.

"So, uh, Alex?" Alex nodded. "You, uh- You're-" Jack had walked up not but a few seconds ago and Michael was already disturbed, he looked at the taller male, almost terrified. 

Alex doesn't blame him, either, considering all things said, if Michael was a germaphobe, then Jack must have terrified him. Jack wasn't the most sanitary man alive, in fact, if Alex had to guess, Jack was probably the least sanitary homed man alive. Jack crossed his arms. "Alex, is this guy bothering you?"

Usually, when Jack asked that question it was a yes. 'Yes, Jack, Rian is bothering me' but not this time. Alex shook his head. "N-no." Jack raised his eyebrow.

"Blink once for yes, and twice for yes." Jack had to think that he was lying.

"H-he's n-no-not bo-bother-ing me, Jack."

Michael was paralyzed, staring at Jack. Jack flicked his nose and leaned down. "What are you looking at?"

"St-stop it, J-Jack." Alex stuttered.

Michael rubbed his nose, he looked like he was about to have a panic attack. Alex rolled his eyes and pulled Jack in before he actually did give Michael a panic attack. Michael looked at him and scratched the back of his neck. "W-well then I'm just- I'll just go."

"Yeah." Jack glared as Michael left and Alex closed the door. He walked, untying his smock.

"Mysophobia." Alex muttered, and Jack, of course, questioned him. "A fear of germs, or being touched. Usually linked back to OCD."

"Yeah?" He asked, not questioning the diagnostics. "And what do you have?"

"Too many." Alex sighed, putting his smock up on the hooks of the hanger in his art room.

\---

Michael bounced up and down, his heart racing as he knocked on the door again, not daring to use the handle. His hands were stuck in his pockets, doing everything he could not to go crazy about them. His meds had ran out, he didn't have a car and Alex was the only neighbor he knew. He bounced up and down, he probably looked absolutely crazy, he was, but that set aside, he wasn't. He was just on the edge of having a fucking huge panic attack. The door was opened to Alex, beanie covering head, shirt loose and no pants on, but boxers. Michael couldn't decide whether that turned him on, or made him want to force some sweatpants on to even it out. Alex squinted at Michael. "M-Michael?"

Michael nodded frantically.

"Wha-what's- what's wr-wrong?"

"My-my meds." Michael stuttered. "I ran out."

"A-and?"

"And I don't- I can't trust cabs. They- they're filthy."

"Oh, uh o-okay. I-I've got- I've got a car, i-if you- just uh, wait- wait here." Alex ran off and got the keys, about to hand them over to Michael, who looked at Alex, then to his hand, then back to Alex. "You- you ex-expect me to dr-drive?"

Michael nodded.

"I-I can bar-barely sp-speak to y-you!"

"Al-Alex. Pl-please?"

Alex bit his lip, he had to know how Michael felt, he just had to. "C-can you co-come in for a mo-moment?" Michael nodded and came in, looking at the ground, not letting himself look anywhere else but his even shoes. He heard shuffling and was so tempted to look up, though it was probably just Alex getting pants on. It took him a couple minutes, a couple long, crazying minutes and Alex finally spoke up again. "C-c'mon, Mi-Michael."

Michael followed Alex out of the apartment and noticed the change in Alex as he walked down the flights of steps. One step after the other, and once he got to the next platform, he looked at the concrete stairs as if they had hands that were reaching out to pull him to the depths of hell. He froze, his pupils dilating. In a sudden, shaky movement, Alex forced the keys down Michael's coat pockets and ran, his head shaking. Michael, though tempted to go comfort him, heard the locks click frantically echoing through the building. He took the keys from his pocket, they were clean as could be, fresh and not smudged in the least. Michael couldn't imagine how the car looked. He walked down the flight of stairs, jittery and confused.

\---

Alex couldn't help it, he saw the stairs, the door. He started to name all the ways he could die. All of the horrible, horrible thoughts pooling up in his mind, they all scarred, made him shake and freeze and his mind went to mush, there were no more rational thoughts, just paranoia. He wanted to help Michael, he knew that he would have died from craziness and depression if he didn't have his pills. He shook in his apartment, tears flooding his eyes. He crawled to the phone, calling Zack. He answered almost immediately, 

"Alex? What is it?"

Alex failed to make words in his mouth. "Za- I- it's- please- I- just-"

"Alex. Alex, it's okay. I'll be right over."

He was, he was calming Alex down in a matter of minutes, turning on the stereo and rubbing his back. Alex felt like a little kid when this happened, like a little boy who fell and scraped his knee, crying into his father's chest. But Zack was both nice and straight enough to not be so emotional over it. "What the hell happened?" He asked once Alex was calmed.

"I-I tried to go out..." He muttered. He'd tried multiple times before to face his social anxiety and phobias. "I wanted to help Michael."

"Who's Michael?" Zack rubbed his hand soothingly over Alex's back.

"My-my neighbor. His meds- he ran out of his meds and he- he doesn't have a car. He's- he's got Mysophobia and- and OCD and I- I wanted to- I wanted to help him!" And, Alex was back to sobbing into Zack's chest.

Zack knew, Zack's been Alex's friend since Middle School, of course he knew. In middle school, Alex was a diagnosed OCD. Obviously, it faded as he grew older, but painting was still kind of hard for him, he tries to keep things as clean and orderly as possible in each of his paintings. It makes his living, selling them, so he has to keep it up. Alex knows how it feels to be without medication. It's a living hell, it makes you want to clean everything, then re-clean everything and wear gloves so you can't catch anything. It's a panic, a haze of pure madness, and to get back to actually being slightly sane during it takes a shitload of willpower. Alex can remember several times that he forgot, didn't want to take, or ran out of his medicine, and one of his few friends had to trick him or force it down his throat.

Alex had long since calmed himself down again, he just didn't want to talk, he wanted to go to sleep, be left alone. Zack knew Alex's process and sat him down on the couch, watching as he fell to his side and curled up into a little ball of Alex on the couch. Zack sighed, turning off the light of the living room and leaving Alex be.

\---

Michael had been staring at the green door for ages now. He had walked back to his door, then back to Alex's at least three in the last hour and his foot was beating up and down rapidly on the concrete. Finally, he knocked, and after a minute of waiting, he wanted to go back to his house. He wanted to go, hide under the covers because the idea that was floating around his mind was the stupidest thing ever.

Alex opened it up after a series of locks clicking unlocked. His eyes were bloodshot and they had dark marks under them. He looked horrible, not that he looked any better than the last times Michael had seen him, but at least the last time Michael was semi-sure he was okay. Now, he just looked pitiful. Michael held out the keys to Alex's car and smiled. Alex, in response, gave a smirk and Michael would be lying if he said he didn't want to kiss Alex. It kind of disgusts him, the thought of kissing, but it's something that he's always wanted to do with Alex. He's just always looked clean to Michael, his lips never looked chapped or bitten, his skin never really looked that dirty, plus, he never goes outside of his house. How could he be that dirty? Before Alex could close the door, Michael pressed his foot in between.  
"Mi-Michael?" Alex opened it back up, raising an eyebrow.

"I wanted- I wanted to talk." Michael muttered, almost under his breath, but Alex still caught it.

"O-Oh, do you- do you want to co-come in?" Alex asked and Michael hesitantly nodded.

Alex moved out of the way of the door and Michael stepped into Alex's house once again, this time, he could look around. He did, with an almost pleasure, of course there was always going to be the few things that set him off, the fact that there was pillows and blankets laid about his living room floor, or the fact that his set of disc were put into uneven piles. Michael took a seat on the couch, tapping his foot.

Alex sat beside him, and noticed the tapping of his foot. "I-if you want, you can- you can clean up as- as we t-talk." Michael didn't spend a long time pondering the offer of it and started to pick up pillows. "Wh-what did you w-want to t-talk ab-about?"

"Oh, well, I just- I just- I was worried for you the- the other day, you know? You kind of- kind of ran away." Michael said, placing down pillows. "I just- I know, but all at the- the same time, I really- I really don't. You-you're afraid- afraid of going outside?"

Alex nodded as Michael finished with the pillows and went to the blankets. "A-agora- agoraphobia."

"Yeah, well. I-I was thinking I could- I could help you." He paused, folding the blanket. "And- and maybe you could- could help me?"  
Alex lent back in his seat, watching as Michael's green eyes searched him for an answer, when all he got was silence, he started walking away. "Just- uh- just forget-"

"Yes." Alex said. "Yeah. I-I will."

"Really?" Michael seemed surprised, it was surprising. Alex was actually letting him help. "Well, then when- when do we start?"

"The- the next time you knock on-on my door."

"Okay." Michael stood up. "Then, this- this weekend."

"Okay."

\---

Michael sat on the seat across from Alex, his one year of psychology class actually being useful for once. It was simple beginners knowledge; if you were going to find the phobia, you're going to need the reason, and if this was going to work both ways, Michael needed to share his. The thing was; Michael never really had a reason, he had a thought. He had a friend. "Once," Michael started, "I did a call. I was paranoid, and I did a count on the football players at my school. On average, the football players got injured or sick at least twenty times during the secondary school years." Michael twiddled his thumbs, his eyes flicking around his pristine, dry and white fingers.

"My father... He didn't approve of my... obsession. He forced me on to every team in my school to 'man me up'. I started to notice, after every swim lesson, every basketball practice, every football game, I would get sick. I would be diagnosed with the flu or the cold. I once even got pneumonia.

"The teammates at my school, they noticed and started to harass me, use my weakness to their advantage. At first it was just my fear of sickness. I didn't like feeling sick, but one day, they... They covered me in whatever it was. It was sticky, and dirty and I remember crying and having a panic attack. That's when it really started, one by one. I would started to notice things. I would organize things differently than before. They- they actually started to call me OCD. My parents took me to therapist, they tried everything, but I just couldn't be saved."

Alex nodded, understanding. Michael honestly felt like he knew. He probably did, though. Alex began to dig one of his thumb nails under the other, knowing it was his turn to talk, though he honestly didn't want to. He never wanted to talk to anyone. He took a breath. "Th-the first time I-I had a panic att-attack, I was a seven-seventh grader. It- it was at the ma-mall and no one- no one helped me. My- my parents moved me to a- to a public school after- afterwards, it-it's how I met Ja-Jack. My- my parent's thought- they thought that I would- that I would get b-better wi-with time, like- like my OCD- like my OCD did. It- it never got better. When I had to- when I had to go to school, I would- would have panic attacks, just- just one after the other. Jack and Rian and- and Zack helped a little. They- they calmed me down, but after- after I got out- out of school and turned nineteen, my parents- they- they kicked me out." Alex sighed. "I-I've been living here- living here ever since."

Michael sat back, nodding, taking the story in. Neither of them knew exactly what to say to each other, but the silence pretty much said everything for them. This is sacred. It said, it won't be told to anyone outside this room. It was like a unbreakable pinky promise of 'those guys are douches' and 'we understand each other'. There was a knock on the door, disrupting the compromising silence. It opened and Rian's head popped in with Zack's. They both gave odd looks at the new guest allowed into Alex's house, but didn't question as Alex gave Michael a nod, and Michael gave the hint of a nod back. He got up and left the apartment, going to his own.

\----

Alex bit on the inside of his cheek as he knocked on Michael's door. His eyes flickered back to the safty and comfort his own green door promised, his bed, his paintings and his couch. He was considering getting back in there just when Michael answered the door. He smiled, and Alex bit harshly on to his cheek, tasting the copper that filled his mouth. Michael invited him in as he sucked on the new wound.

Alex sat down cautiously onto one of Michael's chairs. "So, Alex, you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm- I'm fine... I guess."

"I promise, there is no death traps in my apartment. I would know." Alex gave a breathy laugh. "Do you- do you want some tea?"

Alex nodded, hesitantly and Michael went into his kitchen. Alex so badly wanted to run, go back to his safe apartment and warm bed. The closed door, but he had at least a little bit of sanity, a little piece of himself. This is Michael's house. It's clean as fuck and nothing is going to happen. You are being irrational. Michael came out with the kettle of tea. You may be irrational, but anything could happen. Alex took the pristine cup, he couldn't tell if it was new, or if it was just Michael's Meysophobia.

They started to talk, and Alex noted about the cleanliness, the symmetry of it all. He also noticed the PS4 controllers, stacked up with several other types of controllers. He was a gamer. Michael caught the stare at the controllers. "Would you- would you like to play a game?"

"S-sure, what do you have?" Alex asked and Michael went over, opening the cabinet of sorted games. Michael held up a case, Halo 3, he turned to Alex and smiled.

"Is this okay?" He asked ad Alex nodded. Michael brought over the Xbox controllers and handed one over, then started up the game on the TV screen.  
For once in Alex's life since seventh grade, he was outside of his safe home and not worrying about the consequences. He just focused on the game and Michael, the way Michael jumped up in victory as he won another round. When it was 5-8, Michael sighed, laying down his controller. "I don't usually play games with people." He laughed. "But, uh, you're good at it."

Alex smiled at Michael. "I-I don't normal-normally come to other pe-people's homes."

"Well, then I guess- I guess we're both taking a step forward."

"What's a- what's another thing you don't- you don't usually do?" Alex asked and Michael gave a smirk, leaning forward. Alex was almost surprised, Michael's lips meeting his. He decided, when Michael pulled away, that Michael's house wasn't so bad either.  
\---  
After a few months of helping each other, Michael's OCD had improved, he still needed his medication, but he could now touch people (Jack, in specifics) without having to immediately wash his hands. Not to mention he could now sleep in the same bed with Alex. Alex, however, couldn't step outside the apartment building, not that Michael likes to go out anyway.

Today, though, today Alex decided he was going out. Him and Michael were going out on a proper date. He told Michael prior about it, so he waited for the boy at his door. He tapped on his counter, the silence was practically killing him. Finally, the door was knocked on and Alex walked up, adjusting his beanie before opening it. Michael smiled at him, coming in for a kiss. "You ready?" Alex nodded slightly. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Alex closed the door behind himself as he walked out. He didn't have a problem with his apartment building, no, he'd gone through that step, it was the cloudy skies outside the glass door that bothered him. It was the unpreventable fear of death that bothered him. Michael opened the door to the outside. Alex took the step on to the concrete and tried to block out the thoughts filling his mind. Michael took hold of his hand, his fingers fitting in the spaces perfectly.

"There's a park, not too far from here. Are you okay with walking over there?" Michael asked.

"Mhm." Alex didn't dare take the car. He watched the news. He knew how many car accidents there were a year.

Michael felt the sweat coming off his palms, but stopped himself from pulling away; he knew better than to do that to Alex. Whereas Alex looked surprised at him, he could feel his own sweat and Michael smiled, kissing him. "I'm right here." He whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

Alex nodded and as they walked to the park the thoughts started to subside in his head, but his on-edge-ness never did. Michael laid out a blanket for them to sit down in and wrapped an arm around Alex. It was all going so well, but as Michael and him were walking and talking, things went silent. Alex stopped. his hands started to shake and he almost felt his throat close up.

Michael, looking worriedly at his boyfriend, noticed almost immediately what was happening to him. He squeezed Alex's hand and brought him close, sitting down on one of the park benches. Alex stopped after a minute or two, with Michael holding on to him, rubbing his back. "You wanna go home?" He asked, and Alex sat there for a moment, trying to determine if he actually did or not. "It's okay if you do, Alex." Alex have a nod of his head and Michael helped him up, they started to walk back.

When they were back in the safety of Alex's apartment, cuddled up to each other, using Alex's faux fireplace (Which Alex was scared of for way too many years) to warm the cold place up as it started to rain. Alex muttered against Michael's neck. "I'm sorry, Mikey. I ruined our date."

"No, you didn't, 'Lex." Michael chuckled. "Your minor panic attack saved me from having a major one." Michael motioned to the rain rapidly pouring on the window. "And besides, it's an improvement. Maybe someday, you'll be the one accepting awards."  
"Yeah, someday." Alex smiled.

Someday came the next year, when Alex admitted to being all of his fake aliases. Even years after Alex moved out of his own apartment and into a house with Michael, he still has his own frights about the outside. He came to realize, that as long as Michael by his side, he wouldn't be hurt by anything or anyone.  
And Michael never left his side.


End file.
